


Tokens

by chissprincess



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:50:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chissprincess/pseuds/chissprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year, Thranduil wanted to tell her how he felt, but every year, he couldn't work up the courage to do it. Until one year, he finally did.</p>
<p>(There is only one female character here. I just never know what tag to use for her!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tokens

**Author's Note:**

> Just a random bit of fluff I wrote when the idea popped into my head on Valentine's Day.

     “More gifts for you, sir.”

     Thranduil had just enough time to move his plate of toast out of the way before the servant deposited an armload of objects on the table in front of him. The items were a hodgepodge of mismatched things – jewelry, flowers, ribbons, fine leather belts, and even a small bottle of home-brewed mead. Each came with a tiny tag, indicating the giver’s name and other identifying information. Each came with the hope (but no guarantee) of a gift in return.

     The young prince sighed and found an empty spot on which to set his toast. “I always feel guilty about this,” he muttered as he began to pick through the items. “What am I supposed to do with all of this, anyway?”

     “Accept it all in the spirit in which it is given,” his father sad from the opposite side of the table. “These people care about you, Thranduil.”

     “And I’m grateful for it, but surely they know nothing will ever come of it…” He pulled a particularly fine leather knife sheath from the pile and checked the tag. “…Even the ellyn are sending me things this year,” he said.

     Oropher just chuckled a little. “Ah, my son, are you surprised? Any ellon or elleth would be lucky to have you.” He reached out to take the bottle of mead and held it up to the light to admire its color. “Will you send your token to anyone this year?”

     “I…do not yet know, Ada,” Thranduil said. As Oropher continued to examine the presents, Thranduil went back to his toast and pondered his father’s question. It was a seemingly simple one, but for Thranduil it was wrought with difficulties.

     One of the first things Thranduil and his father had learned upon moving to the Greenwood was that the Silvan elves there celebrated different holidays than did the elves of Doriath or Lindon. One of the new holidays the king and his son adopted was the Day of Love, when the Silvan elves celebrated the loving relationships in their lives. Parents and children exchanged presents, as did very close friends, and of course lovers and spouses did as well. It was considered a particularly auspicious day for young single elves to begin new relationships, and the ritual for doing so was well established. Each young single elf interested in starting a relationship chose a personal token of some sort to give as a gift to the one they wished to court. The recipient then had until sunset to either give their own token in return, if they chose to accept the offer of courtship, or to reject the offer by not giving their token in return. Each elf was strictly limited to one token, and gave a considerable amount of thought to their chosen recipient. Many a young elf had had his or her heart broken on the Day of Love. And ever since coming to the Greenwood and being showered with tokens every year, Thranduil was quite sure he was personally responsible for many of the broken hearts in his father’s realm. Despite the fact that Thranduil always received an enormous pile of tokens every year, he had never once given his own away

     It wasn’t that he had no token to give. He did. Shortly after arriving in the Greenwood and learning of the tradition, he had found a skilled jeweler to make him a beautiful brooch of silver, studded with white and red gems of the highest quality, which he intended to use as his token. And it wasn’t that he had nobody to give his token to. He did. He just hadn’t been able to work up the courage to do so yet.

     Her name was Celegwen, and she had caught Thranduil’s eye the moment he arrived in the Greenwood despite the fact that she was only one of dozens who had turned up to see the new arrival. She was short for an elf, with soft, light-brown hair and pale green eyes, and a smile that could light up a room all on its own. She knew much about the plants in the forest and, when Thranduil expressed interest in knowing more about the various fruits, vegetables, and healing herbs that grew in the Greenwood, all of the cooks and healers had told him to go talk to Celegwen. She had been quite happy to teach him what she knew and they had spent many long hours together in the forest, during which Thranduil had learned that she was a skilled archer with a lovely singing voice and a sharp wit. Celegwen had great patience for Thranduil, who could remember dozens and dozens of songs from Doriath but had a difficult time keeping all the different herbs straight. Before long, they became friends, and often sought each other’s company even between their treks into the forest.

     But Celegwen was a terribly independent elleth, who had shown no interest whatsoever in being tied down with a spouse or children. Thranduil had once discovered that she too was showered with tokens on the Day of Love, and they had had a hearty laugh their shared dilemma. But now, each time Thranduil contemplated offering her his token, he heard her merry laughter in his head and simply couldn’t go through with it. What was the point? She would just laugh at his gift too.

     Wouldn’t she?

     Thranduil finished his toast and his fruit, then took his leave of his father and went off to his private chambers, where he found yet another pile of gifts (this time blocking his door). He sighed and gathered them all to take into his room, where they simply wound up in a pile on the table he kept in his sitting room before he wandered into his bedroom and flopped down onto his bed. But he was too restless to stay there, and before long he was up and pacing as he thought about what to do.

     On the one hand, giving Celegwen his token could be a good thing! She would know how he felt. Maybe she even felt the same way. Maybe she hadn’t given anyone her token because she was just waiting for the right person, and that right person was Thranduil. After all, he hadn’t noticed her spending much time with other ellyn. And they did have fun together…

     On the other hand, giving Celegwen his token could be a disaster. She would know how he felt. Maybe she _didn’t_ feel the same way. Maybe she truly wanted to be single forever. Maybe she liked other _ellith_ and had no interest in any ellon at all. What if she was offended? What if it made her uncomfortable around him? What if he lost her friendship too?

     But…but could he really go on like this, not knowing her true feelings? It was frustrating, and sooner or later it would influence their friendship. They had always been honest with each other about everything else. And there was that story Oropher always told, about how he had won Thranduil’s mother’s heart by writing her a song, even though he had no reason to believe she cared for him at all. Look how well that had turned out!

    Well, that settled it, then. Thranduil stopped pacing and went to the chest where he kept such small treasures as his mother’s favorite rings and his childhood circlets, and searched until he found the small velvet-lined box in which he kept the brooch. He opened the box to make sure the brooch was still there and in good condition, turning it this way and that to watch the way the light sparkled on the gems and flashed across the smooth silver. Satisfied that everything was in order, he found some parchment and a quill. He tore a small strip off the parchment and wrote _from Thranduil, a token of my heart_ on it, then tucked it into the box with the brooch and summoned a servant to bring it to Celegwen. And then, he settled in to wait for sunset.

 

***   ***   ***

 

     Sunset had come and gone, and though Thranduil had received dozens of tokens throughout the day (he was quite sure it was a record this year), he had received nothing at all from Celegwen. He tried not to be upset. After all, he had known there was a good chance that she didn’t return his feelings. It had been a risk, and one he deemed worth taking…sadly, it had ended in failure for the young prince.

     After dinner, he found his warmest cloak and wandered outside to sit on a fallen tree trunk not that far from his father’s stronghold to watch the stars. It was still winter in the Greenwood, and the night air was still cool enough that his breath made little clouds as he exhaled, but somehow the chilliness only made the starlight more lovely to him. It was comforting, really, to see how unchanging the stars were. Always there, always twinkling down on him, like little white jewels in the vast velvet blackness of the night sky…how could anyone not love the stars?

     His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps in the snow and dead leaves carpeting the forest floor. He turned just in time to see Celegwen, cloaked in fur and eyes twinkling in the starlight, sit down on the tree beside him. His heart nearly stopped as she grinned at him.

     “Well, Thranduil, I had the most interesting day today,” she said.

     “D-did you now?” he asked. He shivered a little, and not from the cold. What was she doing here? Surely she wouldn’t be cruel enough to come taunt him about his token…

     “Indeed,” she said. “As usual I was nearly drowned in tokens this year. But there was one particularly interesting one!” She pushed her cloak aside to reveal Thranduil’s brooch, pinned to her clothes just above her heart. The prince’s eyes widened and his lips parted in shock. She was wearing it! But what did that mean? “Never in my life have I ever even seen something so fine,” she continued, as though oblivious to his reaction. “I am no noble, after all, and we do not make such things as this in the Greenwood. So you can imagine that I was a bit perplexed to receive it…I wondered if, perhaps, it was a mistake.”

     Thranduil simply shook his head. “There is no mistake,” he said softly. “I sent my token to you.”

     Celegwen’s cheeks turned as red as the rubies in her brooch. “But…why?” she finally asked. “There is nothing special about me, Thranduil. Surely you can do better. Surely your father wants you to do better than someone like me.”

     “There is _everything_ special about you, Celegwen,” he said, taking her hands and holding them tightly. She looked up at him, biting her lower lip a bit, and tilted her head. “I value our friendship, but you are so much more to me than that…There is so much about you that I admire, so much about you that I…that I might love, if given the chance…”

     “But your father…”

     Thranduil just shook his head. “My heart is mine to give, not his. He has always told me that. And I would like to give it to you.”

     Celegwen gulped a little, then tugged her hand out of his grasp and reached into her pocket. When she held her hand out to him, she held a ring in her palm. The ring was carved from wood and polished inside and out to perfect smoothness, with a pattern of flowers and leaves burned into the surface. “I…I made this for you,” she said. “It took me all day, and I actually had to start over once and I had to have my brother help me with the carving…that’s why I missed the sunset.”

     Thranduil took the ring and studied it, his mouth slowly turning up in a warm smile as he did. “It’s beautiful, Celegwen,” he finally said.

     “I’m glad you think so,” she said. “And you better take care of it because it took me forever and I am _not_ making you another one!”

     He laughed. “I would never even dream of placing such a burden on you,” he said, and without even really thinking he pulled her into a warm embrace. She chuckled and snuggled into the warmth of his arms, and as the stars shone down on them they both dreamt of their bright future in the Greenwood.


End file.
